


if you're not here to turn the lights off (i can't sleep)

by losingmyangelgrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, marine!Derek, teacher!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losingmyangelgrace/pseuds/losingmyangelgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Honey! I’m home!” Stiles shouted into the empty apartment as he moved quickly through to the kitchen, dumping his backpack onto bench before crossing to the fridge and crossing off another day on the calendar. A month and a half. That was how long was left until Derek came home, until he was safe. Everyday felt like a lifetime to Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're not here to turn the lights off (i can't sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about the American Marine Corps so if I've seriously messed anything up with the whole 'Derek is a marine' thing then I'm really sorry and I hope you can over look it. 
> 
> This was not beta'd, all mistakes are me own.

“Honey! I’m home!” Stiles shouted into the empty apartment as he moved quickly through to the kitchen, dumping his backpack onto bench before crossing to the fridge and crossing off another day on the calendar. A month and a half. That was how long was left until Derek came home, until he was safe. Everyday felt like a lifetime to Stiles. 

Moving in a way that spoke of practise, he fed himself before sitting down in the living room and planning out the next day’s lessons. After he’d finished drawing up a worksheet on the alphabet, Stiles leaned back against the sofa and rubbed his eyes.

Derek had been gone for so long. And Stiles felt heavy from it. From the worry and anticipation and just, the ache that came from missing the love of his life. It felt like he was devoid of a limb or a vital organ. He could barely function without Derek, without knowing exactly where he was, if he was okay. If he was _alive_. 

With a tired, bone weary sigh, Stiles packed his bag back up for the next day and hit the shower. He thought of the way Derek touched him. The burn of his husband’s stubble against his skin. The way their lips pressed together. How it felt when Derek was inside of him. The memories were seared into his mind, just as powerful as they were as those months ago when Derek left for Afghanistan. 

Stiles came with a sharp gasp, shooting into his own hand before he sagged against the tiled wall and the anguish he felt over Derek almost became too much. His breath shuddered and his eyes stung but he refused to cry, Derek wouldn’t want him to cry. 

After getting out and drying himself off, Stiles climbed into his too big bed wearing a pair of Derek’s boxers and rolled onto the left side, Derek’s side. He hugged the pillow, shoving his nose into it, desperately trying to catch a scent that wasn’t there, that hadn’t been there in months. Stiles’ breath hitched and he quickly shoved himself away. Picking up the comforter and wrapping it around him before padding through the apartment and sinking down onto the sofa. 

If he was going to get any sleep it certainly wouldn’t be in a place that highlighted Derek’s absence in such an unmistakable way.

-oOo-

He was sitting in his classroom, it was late, darkness pressed against the windows. There was a knock at the door and Stiles look up to see Adam, the new third grade teacher, leaning against the frame and holding two cups of coffee. “Hey,” Adam smiled, walking into the room.

“Hi,” Stiles said, sighing and pushing away the lesson plan he was working on. “Thanks,” he added, with a forced smile, as he took one of the cups from Adam. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Adam, he just couldn’t find a reason to smile genuinely about a lot of things these days.

“You’re not usually here this late…” he trailed off, looking at Stiles intently. 

Stiles just shrugged for an answer. The truth was the apartment was feeling horrendously empty and he was starting to avoid spending time there if he could help. Reminders of Derek were everywhere despite the fact that his husband had been away for so long. It was hard for him, having Derek be a constant presence when he still wouldn’t get too see him until he came back from his tour. 

_If_ he came back. 

Which he would, Stiles knew, there wasn’t any other alternative. Derek would come home to him eventually, just like he always had. The thought didn’t make the waiting any easier, though, or keep the small negative voice at the back of his mind quiet whenever he tried to sleep in their bed. 

Adam leaned against the side of the desk and they sipped their coffee in silence. 

“So I see Thor 2 is out at the cinemas,” Adam said.

Stiles glanced up at him, “Yeah.” 

“You’re into that kind of thing aren’t you?” 

Not liking the way this conversation seemed to be going, Stiles answered cautiously, “Yeah. Me and my best friend are planning to go and see it.”

“Oh, okay,” Adam frowned, but then he took a deep breath, “I was thinking that you and I could go together, maybe…like on a date?” 

Stiles stared up at him, shocked and confused, the man knew that Stiles was married so why the hell would he ask him something like that. Before Stiles could protest though, Adam placed his cup on the desk and lunged forward. “N-” Stiles started to say but before he could even get the word out, Adam’s lips were on his, the other man’s hands pinning Stiles’ arms to the chair. 

Instead of struggling, Stiles fell completely still as Adam’s lips moved against his. The man’s tongue pushing at the seam of Stiles’ closed lips, trying to force his mouth open. Stiles’ felt dirty, his skin crawled and his stomach churned while all he could think about was Derek, thousands of miles away.

Finally Adam pulled back and the bastard had the nerve to leer down at Stiles. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Stiles hissed out. Adam removed the hands from his arms and Stiles pushed him back, standing up and walking around the desk, putting distance between the two of them, “What part of ‘I’m married’ doesn’t compute with you?”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re husband isn’t here so I thought that-”

“You thought that I’d cheat on him,” Stiles bit out, his tone icy, “You thought that because Derek is away fighting on another continent it would be okay to swoop in and try and date me? Well guess what, it’s not okay!” 

“God,” Adam held his hands out, palms towards Stiles in a placating gesture, “I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Well you did offend me!” Stiles shouted, his anger rising from nowhere, his temper easily ignited these days. “How dare you think that I would ever be unfaithful, that I’d cheat on a man that I chose to spend the rest of my life with just because he wasn’t around!”

Adam opened his mouth to say something but Stiles cut him off, “If I tell my husband about what you just tried to pull, he serves in the _Marine Corps_ by the way, you do know that he’d happily gut you without a second thought. So if you try anything again, or even try to speak to me, then I _will_ tell him, understand? Now get the fuck out!” He pointed towards the door, rage coursing through him.

Face pale, Adam left the room without another word. A wave of defeat passed over Stiles, the anger leaving as quickly as it at reared its ugly head, and he sunk down onto his desk, holding his head in his hands. Christ, he missed Derek so much.

-oOo-

It was a Sunday, Stiles was sitting on the picnic bench in Scott’s back garden observing his family. Watching as his dad played with Scott and Allison’s twin girls, where Chris, Andrew (Derek’s father) and Scott manned the barbeque looking for the entire world like they’d rather be anywhere else, and Melissa, Erica, Talia and Allison were in the kitchen talking about whatever woman talked about when they got together and drank red wine.

He was surrounded by people he loved but still all he felt was worry and a horrible numbness that had been with him ever since the night before. He didn’t know how Andrew and Talia were doing it, acting like everything was normal. Then again, he hadn’t told them anything so as far as they were concerned, everything probably was normal. Looking down at his sweating bottle of beer, Stiles started to pick the label off, just to give his hands something to do. 

Someone plonked down onto the bench opposite him and Stiles looked to see Scott watching him, pensive, not usually a look that crossed his best friend’s face. “What’s the matter, dude?” Scott asked, his brow furrowing, “You’re too quiet.”

“I miss Derek,” Stiles sighed, looking back down at the bottle.

“It’s more than that though,” Scott pressed. And he was right of course, they’d known each other for years, Scott generally knew the reasons behind Stiles infrequent silences, and he knew how to read the layers to them. Also meaning that Scott knew when Stiles wasn’t telling him something. Blowing out a breath he decided, why not?

“We were meant to Skype last night, he was meant to call at ten…but he didn’t,” he explained with a simple shrug, his voice low to neither Andrew or Talia would hear. Stiles was trying to act like it was no big deal, except that it was a big deal. 

He and Derek had been dating since he was seventeen. They’d met in a coffee house in town; Derek had only been back from his first tour for a few days at the time. Stiles had been dumbfounded that someone like Derek had wanted to date someone like him, but, as Derek had put it, _‘I just spent six months in a hellhole in the middle of the desert, fuck if I’m going deny myself something I want.’_ And Stiles wasn’t going to deny him either.

Now, eight years and six tours later, Stiles was really, _really_ anxious for the first time. He always worried, he couldn’t stop himself, not with Derek so far away. Stiles had always believed that Derek’s second tour - the first tour that he was with Stiles - had been the hardest, sitting at home, waiting, not knowing what was happening. This however, this feeling was so much worse because Derek never missed a call, never, not once in all of those years had Derek missed a call with Stiles, but now he had, and Stiles didn’t really know how to feel. 

The times apart had never gotten easier, they had become more bearable, but the constant tension was always there and never left him between the time Stiles watched Derek walk away from him and the time that Stiles met Derek at the airport. They’ve had a lot of airport reunions, each one even sweeter than the last. The point being, Stiles was now adrift, his emotions had become a sea of turmoil and after his sleepless night waiting by the computer he was starting to feel it all bubble over. Especially seeing his family together, happy and healthy but not having Derek here to enjoy it with. 

“Derek will be fine Stiles,” Scott reassured quietly, reaching out over the table to take Stiles’ hand, grounding him in a way that only a brother could. “He’s always fine. You know how tough he is, and you know that he’d never leave you. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“But how can I not!” Stiles whisper shouted, his voice cracking, “He’s never missed a call, Scott, not once, this whole fucking time! And he’d never been gone this long before. Sure, he’d done six month, nine month stints but never a full year’s rotation.” His eyes were burning and as he felt the tears starting to leak out he pulled his arm out of Scott’s grasp so he could scrub at his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

He couldn’t cry. Derek wouldn’t want him to cry. 

“How long until he’s scheduled to get back?” Scott asked gently.

“Another month yet,” Stiles mumbled miserably, putting his head in his hands. “I just want him home.”

“And he will be home, soon, but you have to stay strong for him until he gets back.”

Stiles could never deny that Scott always knew what to say in times like these, during their quieter moments, just like Stiles could do the same in return. It didn’t make him feel any better, his mind kept heading down the dangerous path of thinking that Derek would never come home, that Stiles had lost him but he knew he couldn’t think things like that. It was a self-destructive route and until he either saw Derek or he received that dreaded knock at the door and found a man standing there actually _telling_ him that Derek wasn’t coming back, then he really couldn’t make assumptions. It was still hard not too though. 

Running his hand through his hair he decided to change the subject, “You know the new third grade teacher I was telling you about?”

“Yeah,” Scott nodded, he was looking wearily at Stiles, obviously unsure if he was alright or not, but he was allowing the conversations change in direction and Stiles was grateful.

“He asked me out on a date the other week and then got offended when I told him that I wasn’t going to cheat on my husband,” Stiles snorted.

Scott looked outraged, which was what he’d been hoping for. “What an asshole!” his best friend asserted, making Stiles nod in agreement, “Derek would gut him for even thinking about it.”

“I know right, that’s what I said,” he felt his lips creep up into a small smile, as close to genuine as he got these days. It had been cathartic, to shout at Adam, the man had deserved the treatment he’d received and it had helped ease some of Stiles’ nerves, if only momentarily. 

Allison called on Scott, her voice drifting from the kitchen window, and Stiles held back a laugh, it was like Scott’s ear pricked at the mention of his name. Standing, Scott looked down at him; Stiles could practically see the gears working in his brain. “Spit it out, buddy,” Stiles said fondly. 

“Just, and I know that it’s hard okay, but please, try not to worry too much. If he missed the call then there’ll be a legitimate reason behind it, but it won’t be as bad as you think it is. So…please?” Scott finished, his expression beseeching. 

“I’ll try,” Stiles sighed after a moment, “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll give it a go.”

“Okay,” Scott nodded before heading into the house.

Stiles looked around again, thinking of his best friend’s request. The worry wasn’t something he could forget about or even put on a backburner. It had been there for too long. However as he looked around at his family again, listened to Abbey and Cassandra giggling as his father chased them round the yard, watched as Andrew smiled at Melissa as they worked to plate up the cooked meat, he thought that maybe, even if it was just for one afternoon, that he could give it a try.

-oOo-

Stiles was standing in the auditorium, at the end of the first row watching over his class of Kindergartener’s while they watched the two men on stage giving the assembly. He wasn’t sure what the two marines were talking about, all he knew was that as soon as they walked on stage and he saw the uniforms, the very same uniform that Derek wore, anger took over. How dare they be home and safe when he had to worry about his own marine, his own husband, who was out there fighting while they got to stay safe on home soil.

He knew he was being overly selfish of course, he knew what they went through, the things they faced from some of the brief stories that Derek had told him, usually by accident since the only person Derek talked about his tours with was his therapist. Stiles understood why, some of the things he had described had been gut wrenching and the look on Derek’s face after the words slipped out had tugged at Stiles’ heart. He’d spent those nights just holding his husband, letting him know that he was safe now.

Knowing that he couldn’t begrudge the two men they’re time at home, Stiles’ anger quickly turned into guilt. All he wanted to do was sit down and curl into a ball, shut the world out and not resurface for two weeks when Derek would finally be home. 

_If_ he was coming home. 

There was still no word from him. No Skype calls, no letters, nothing, and it hurt in the worst ways. From when he woke up in the morning to when he eventually fell asleep again at night all he did was ache. People around him were starting to notice as well, were starting to realize the depth of the dark circles underneath Stiles’ eyes and just how much weight he’d lost over the past eleven and a half months. He’d had a panic attack the week previous, Sunday morning breakfast with his dad in their regular diner. S man had walked past their table wearing the same cologne as Derek and it had sent him over the edge. 

Since then John had taken to calling him at least twice a day and Scott and Allison were inviting him over for dinner more than usual. It was nice to know that he had a good support system, that they weren’t going to let him wallow but sometimes he just wanted to be left alone. 

Now was one of those times, but just up and leaving in the middle of the school day wouldn’t be appropriate. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the kids in the hall clapping there little hands and the two marines nodding their heads to them respectfully. Biting his lip, he looked to Isaac, the first grade teacher and asked, “Can you watch my kids for a minute?”

“Sure,” Isaac agreed, turning his attention to both rows instead of just his one, telling them to settle down until the other classes had been led out of the hall first.

Stiles ascended to stage stairs quickly and ducked backstage, seeking out the two marines. He found them packing away some papers and enjoying some light hearted banter. “Erm…” Stiles said to get their attention, unsure of how to really proceed. 

“Can we help you?” frowned the one closest to him. Peterson, his tag read.

“This is gonna probably sound a little stupid and I know just because you’re both marines doesn’t mean you know every single marine in the Corps but…” he paused, inwardly cringing at how desperate he sounded. The other gestured for him to go on and Stiles took a deep breath before continuing, “You don’t happen to know Derek Hale of the 1st Battalion, under the command of the 5th Marine Regiment and the 1st Marine Division, do you?” 

Peterson looked at him with something too close to pity for his liking and Stiles felt his stomach drop, his knees feeling weak. 

“I’m sorry,” the man said softly, “But the name doesn’t ring any bells… Can I ask why you’re asking?”

“He missed a call home a couple of weeks ago,” Stiles told them, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“If it helps, I’m sure he’s fine,” the other marine, Roberts, reassured him. “There are a multiple reasons for why he’d have missed the check in and most of them aren’t bad, definitely nowhere near what you’re probably thinking. If the War Office hasn’t contacted you then he’s fine. Trust us on this, no news is good news.”

Stiles smiled weakly at them, feeling stupid and not at all placated or any less anxious. “Thank you,” he said, trying to muster as much sincerity as he could before he left the two men to it with a curt nod and relieving Isaac from his class of kids. 

“What are we going to do now Mr Hale?” A little girl name Juliet asked, staring up at him with wide eyes. None of them could ever pronounce Stilinski. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, trying to will away the forming migraine, “I don’t know, what would you like to do?”

“Story time?” she said hopefully, he heard high pitched agreements from the rest of his class. 

Slapping on a smile, Stiles opened his eyes and turned to them with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “Have I ever read The Wreck of the Zanzibar to you guys?” There was a chorus of no’s and Stiles grinned even wider, almost looking a little forward to sharing one his favourite childhood stories with the class, “Then I guess we’re going to change that today.”

-oOo-

He lay on the sofa in the living, his laptop balanced on his knees as Stiles hunched in on himself, wrapping his arms around his torso, holding himself together. Derek moved across the screen, he was in this very room. Stiles remember taking the video. It was a Saturday afternoon, Derek had been home for a month, and they were just goofing around. His own voice sounding from off screen since he had been holding the camera, he’d been trying to convince Derek to let him buy a Princess Leia bikini, the metal one, describing to Derek how obviously sexy he’d look in it.

Derek kept smiling and laughing as he came up with rebuttals. Things like Stiles didn’t have the breasts to pull it off and why would he want to have sex with Stiles dressed like that when they could have sex naked instead, that he’d be able to worship Stiles’ body properly then. 

As Stiles watched shudders ran through his body. He listened to Derek’s soft voice and ached to actually hear it, in real time. One week, one week and Derek should be home, but…would he be coming home? Stiles still hadn’t heard anything, nothing from Derek, nothing from the Corps.

_No news was good news._

He was having a hard time of believing it though.

-oOo-

Stiles pulled up in front of the apartment building he got out of the Jeep wearily, Derek was scheduled to arrive home tomorrow.

He was going to stay late at school that night but he’d decided that he just didn’t have the effort left in him. So after locking his Jeep behind himself, Stiles proceeded into the building and climbed the flights of stairs up to his floor slowly. After a brief fumble with his keys he got the front door open but then stopped in his tracks as soon as he’d stepped through the threshold. Sitting next to the side table that he and Derek had always kept his keys on, was a large camouflage backpack. 

His breath started to come in quick gasps as he stared at it. Stiles didn’t want to think, couldn’t think, didn’t want to let the hope grow in his chest when there was still a small chance that it could be shut down. Footsteps sounded in the living room, the noise growing louder until they stopped and a pair of legs invaded Stiles vision to the right. 

“Stiles,” said a familiar voice gently, sounding slightly unsure, “baby?” 

Stiles’ eyes snapped up and he stared, his lower lip starting to wobble when, after a year apart, he finally looked at his husband. Not over a computer screen, but right there in front of him 

Derek was wearing a pair of jeans and a dark, long-sleeved Henley, his hair was slightly damp like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Stiles stared into those pale green brown eyes and swallowed, the click of his throat audible in the silence. “D-Derek?” he stuttered as he felt heat start to prickle at the backs of his eyes. 

“I’m here,” the other man murmured, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Stiles in a tight embrace. “I’m here,” he repeated, kissing Stiles hair, “I’m back, I’m okay, I’m _home_.” 

And those words cracked something in Stiles, every ounce of emotion he’d been holding back for so long came flooding out. He shook, he whimpered and sniffled before at last, after months of holding it back, he began to cry. 

They were loud sobs. Broken sounding things that wrenched out of Stiles between gasping breathes as he clung to Derek, scrabbling at his husbands back before he fisted his hands into the Henley, holding himself tightly to the length of the man’s body. His legs gave out and Derek went down onto his knees with him as he made soothing noises and rubbed Stiles’ back. 

Stiles felt Derek’s breath hitch and it only renewed his wails. “I- I missed you,” he managed to choke out against Derek’s neck, “I missed you so much.” 

“Hey, hey I’m right here,” Derek said, his voice wavering slightly, “and I missed you too, so badly.” 

If it was possible, Stiles felt Derek’s grip on him tighten. He continued to cry, letting everything out, the worry, the heartache until he felt empty of it all, knowing that Derek would soon fill him again with everything he’d been missing in his husband’s absence. When he was reduced to meek snivels Derek’s grip began to loosen but Stiles clutched him, whimpering, his voice raw “No, please, don’t let me go.”

“I won’t, promise,” Derek whispered, kissing his temple gently. 

He pulled them both to their feet, and Stiles felt Derek’s arms wrap tightly around his waist before he was being lifted carefully off of the ground. Going limp against Derek’s body, he wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck and let himself be carried. 

There was a falling sensation and Stiles looked up to see that they were in the living room, on the sofa. Stiles curled into a ball in Derek’s lap, pressing his face into the man’s chest as a few more quiet sobs tumbled from him. 

-oOo-

When Stiles came back to consciousness, he came back slowly. First aware of the chest pressed along his side, the rhythmic rise and fall of Derek’s torso as he breathed, then the arms wrapped tightly around him, keeping him in the very same position that he’d fallen asleep in. 

Opening his eyes, he stretched his legs out painfully, throwing them over the arm of the sofa and he unclasped his hands from the death grip they’d had on Derek’s shirt. Stiles pulled back and looked up at his husband. 

The man was sleeping, his head resting back against the cushions, a small smile playing at his lips even in slumber. Stiles reached up and began to trace Derek’s face with his fingers, rememorizing that of which he already knew so well: the smooth curve of Derek’s eyebrows, the straight plain of his nose, the contours of his cheekbones and the soft bow of his lips, everything.

He felt himself smile, how could he help himself after all, Derek was home. Finally. And even though he’d imagined their reunion to go a little differently from what had actually transpired, he couldn’t have been happier. A weight had been lifted in his chest and Stiles felt light for first time in almost a year. 

Derek’s plush lips pressed against his fingers still rest against them and his eyes fluttered open. Stiles stared into them, taking in the flecks of brown and gold mixed in with light green and grey. A colour impossible to name but one he’d missed seeing just like he’d missed every other part of Derek during their time apart. “Hey sleepyhead,” Stiles smiled, taking his fingers away to lean forward and kiss his husband. 

It felt like he was on fire. A simple, chaste kiss that made what felt like electric shocks course through his body. He held Derek’s face and he felt one of his husband’s hands run through his hair before gripping his neck. The making the skin feel like it was burning. When Stiles pulled back his lips where tingling, his breath hitched in his chest and he rest his forehead against Derek’s, “I’ve missed you,” he said again. No matter how many times he repeated those three words he would never be able to truly express just how much he did. 

“I know,” Derek breathed, “I missed you, too… I love you.” 

“And I love you,” Stiles answered, feeling heat prickle at the backs of his eyes again. 

“Hey,” Derek took his face in his hands, gently swiping his thumbs over the soft skin underneath Stiles’ eyes. “Don’t cry again, I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, ducking his head to press another soft kiss to Derek’s lips, “I was just so worried. When you missed that call…” Stiles’ voice cracked with emotion so he punched Derek’s shoulder to show how annoyed he was. 

“Sorry about that,” Derek apologised. “My unit,” he turned sombre, “we got held up.” 

“Everyone was okay though, right?” Stiles frowned. 

His husband looked away from him then, his eyes focusing somewhere over Stiles’ shoulder and he waited with baited breath, his heart aching, until-

“We lost Boyd.” 

“Oh Derek, I’m so sorry,” Stiles murmured, once again leaning forward, but this time to press light kisses all over his husbands face. His cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his chin. Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to make it better, not really, no one could ease the pain of loss, especially the loss of a best friend. Boyd had been family, but he would still try to help Derek through it. 

“It was quick,” Derek said, the click of his throat sounding when he swallowed thickly, “That’s all that matters.” 

For once, Stiles was speechless, so he did the only he thought might make it a little easier and wrapped himself around Derek, gently easing the man’s face into his neck, methodically carding his fingers through the thick hair at his nape. He felt his husband take deep calming breaths, savoured the way Derek wound his arms tight around his waist. Stiles didn’t want to let go ever again. Derek had been through so much, and continued too but all Stiles wanted to do was wrap him in a nice comfy, _painless_ bubble and never let him out of his sight. 

“How about we take a bath,” Stiles suggested, his voice husky. 

Derek nodded against his neck, so, taking his hands, he carefully pulled Derek’s arms away from him and stood, pulling Derek with him and leading him slowly through their apartment to the bathroom off the hall. Still keeping hold of Derek’s wrist, Stiles bent down over the tub and turned on the taps. After checking the water temperature a few times to make sure it was perfect, Stiles stood back up and when Derek moved to pull his shirt off Stiles stopped him by catching Derek’s other wrist with his free hand. 

After drawing Derek’s hands up to his face and kissing each knuckle before turning them over to kiss the calloused palms, Stiles lifted his husband’s arms above his head and carefully pulled off the shirt he was wearing, dropping it onto the floor. He took a moment to run the tips of his fingers over Derek’s torso - not missing the way the man shuddered at the contact - to catalogue the newest scars marring his husband’s smooth skin. 

Stiles took a step forward, resting his forehead the dip between Derek’s collar bones and continued to run his hands over the wide plains of Derek’s back, Derek’s arms coming to rest around his shoulders. He traced the triskele with a fingertip, just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean he didn’t know its exact location between his husband’s shoulder blades. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of simply touching Derek’s skin but after he’d satisfied his immediate craving, Stiles took a small step back and dropped to his knees. His hands were trembling as he unfastened Derek’s felt and popped the button on his jeans, slowly working the zip down. Derek stood still though his ministrations, letting Stiles do whatever he wanted, letting Stiles take care of him.

Tugging Derek’s jeans and underwear down - his cock flaccid since this was sensual not a sexual experience however Stiles still licked his lips at the sight - and cupped his hand around the back of Derek’s right ankle before slowly moving his hand up until he was lightly holding Derek’s calf. He lifted his husband’s leg and pulled the clothing out the way and then repeated the process with the other, discarding the clothing on top of the shirt.

Floundering in his need to just _touch_ Derek, Stiles shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around his husband’s thighs and pressed his face into Derek’s stomach. Another wave of emotion threatened to take over. Derek placed his hands light on his shoulders, squeezing, and even at such a simple gesture Stiles shuddered.

“Are we going to take this bath or are you planning on just flooding the place?” Derek asked at the murmur.

Stiles snorted and pressed a kiss just above Derek’s navel before standing up, quickly shutting off the taps. He undressed quickly, without any care, just wanting to get the clothes off of himself, almost pulling the buttons off of the dress shirt he’d worn that day in his haste, much to Derek’s amusement. And to see that quirk of lips, hear that bark of laughter, made Stiles feel warm inside. 

A small smile gracing his lips Stiles took Derek’s hand and tugged him gently over to the tub. Letting go of Derek’s fingers he stepped in and sat down, his back pressing against the warm porcelain. Derek climbed in once Stiles was settled, sinking down so he was between Stiles’ leg, his back pressed to Stiles’ front. Stiles wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist, holding him tight as he buried his face into Derek’s neck, breathing him in. 

Derek was here with him. He was real. Finally home after such a long period away, it wasn’t a dream or a wish. Derek was sitting with him, letting Stiles hold him and Stiles felt so overwhelmed by it. For so long he’d wanted Derek safe, and now he was. 

When Derek reached a hand back to card wet fingers through Stiles’ hair, his breathe hitched. 

They sat in hot water for a while, steam clouding the bathroom mirror, just enjoying each other’s presence. Conversation wasn’t needed. Stiles could talk a mile a minute, fill any silence if he wanted to but he always found that he didn’t want to when Derek came home. Words would be inadequate. Instead both of them filled the silences with actions. Touches filled the place of words in times like these. Soft caresses and sweet kisses saying more than any words ever could. 

So when Stiles picked up a wash cloth and lathered it up, Derek let Stiles gently clean his entire body without saying a thing. Once he had finished, Derek took the cloth from Stiles and the man allowed his husband to do the exact same thing to him, because Stiles knew that just as much he wanted to touch Derek, his husband wanted to touch him just as much in return. They had spent a year apart and that affected both of them in equal measure. 

Clean, they helped each out of the bath and wrapped one another in towels, Derek delicately rubbing a towel over Stiles’ damp hair while he pressed one onto Derek’s torso, wiping the water droplets away. Half dry, Derek took control and led Stiles to their bedroom, pulling the towels off and pushing Stiles down onto the bed before he covered Stiles body with his own, his forearms either side of Stiles’ head. Stiles shivered as he felt the weight of his husband press down on him, a weight he always forgot to miss until he felt it again. 

Stiles sighed softly, happily, when Derek slotted their lips together.

They kissed lazily, languidly, their tongues gliding against each other’s and Stiles revelled in the heat of Derek’s mouth as he ran his hands over every part of Derek he could reach, enjoying the feeling of Derek’s skin underneath his fingertips. They kissed for what felt like hours, both their cocks filling at the skin on skin contact. 

Slowly the kiss began to become more desperate, heated in the need to really _feel_ one another’s bodies, too bask in the pleasure it created. They ground against one another, aborted thrusts and breathless moans. Derek began to work his way down Stiles’ body, nibbling at his neck, sucking his nipples until the nubs were both hard, licking a path around his navel and then down the line of hair that stretched down to his groin, leaving Stiles’ skin feeling like it had been set ablaze.

Stiles was a riving mess when Derek purposefully avoided his leaking cock and started sucking hickeys on the inside of his thighs. Working him into a fervour when Derek took both of Stiles’ balls into his mouth, not sucking just laving his tongue over them. Stiles was strung out, his hands fisted in the bed sheets, the heels of his feet pressing into Derek’s back and he wanted Derek inside of him. 

“Derek,” Stiles panted, not caring how wrecked he sounded, “Derek, please…” 

With a wet sound, Derek let Stiles’ balls drop from his mouth and moved back up his body to press a reassuring kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth and Stiles clung to him, thrusting upwards to try and find a little friction. “I’ve got you,” Derek rasped, “I’ve got you.”

Still kissing Stiles, Derek reached a hand out and dug around in the top draw of his bedside cabinet, coming back with a bottle of lube and a condom. He leaned back on his knees and Stiles whimpered at the loss of contact, keeping his eyes scrunched closed as he listened to the cap of the bottle being popped, the sounds of Derek coating his fingers.

“Look at me, Stiles,” Derek murmured.

Stiles obliged, and as soon as he lifted his eyes to Derek’s, he pushed a finger into his hole, making Stiles cry out. 

“I’ve got you,” his husband repeated, leaning back down to press tender kisses against Stiles’ lips as he worked the finger slowly in and out. 

When Derek added a second Stiles mewled, raising his hips up to meet Derek’s hand and when Derek pressed against Stiles’ prostate he moaned at the zing of pleasure that spread through him. Stiles was tight, never able to bring himself to use fingers while Derek was away, and the stretch burned when Derek began opening him up with three fingers. But the pain was delicious, another reminder that Derek was here with him after so long.

Stiles was shamelessly begging for it when Derek pulled his fingers out and quickly tore the condom out of its foil. Stiles watched, enraptured, as Derek rolled it down his hard cock, coating himself with lube, the evening sunlight coming in through the window casting him in a halo of light. Derek gripped the base of his cock as he pushed in slowly, Stiles momentarily forgetting how to breathe as he felt himself stretch even further as Derek bottomed out. The first shallow thrust made Stiles gasp for air, and Derek leaned down, pressing their bodies together as he began to slowly rock his hips. 

Derek pressed their lips together, hard and passionate, kissing Stiles through their love making. 

Rolling his hips, Derek began pulling out much further before pushing back into Stiles in long, firm thrusts, and Stiles rocked back against him. The sound of their skin meeting and ragged breathes filling the air in the room. 

His cock trapped between their two bodies, eased by his own precome, Stiles began sobbing as Derek’s dick glanced over his prostate again and again. He felt his orgasm building in the very depth of his bones, Derek thrusting deeper and deeper, filling him, and Stiles stood on the precipice for a few heart-pounding moments before his balls tightened and he choked out his husbands name as he came, untouched, between them. Stiles’ vision went white as more pleasure then he’d felt in months rolled through his body, he clenched around Derek, who, after another few stuttered thrusts of his hips, buried his face in Stiles’ neck and repeated his name, his actual given name, like a prayer as he emptied himself into the condom. 

They lay like that, breathing hard, their bodies sweaty and spent. After a while Derek moved to pull out but Stiles stopped him, not wanting to lose the feeling of Derek inside of him even after they had both gone soft. Derek pressed soft kisses to his neck, whispering nonsensical things, his voice full of love and affection. 

Together they fell asleep, right there on top of the sheets, using each other for warmth and neither caring that later they’d wake up covered in their own dried fluids, not wanting let go of one another for an instant.

-oOo-

When Stiles awoke, the first thing he became aware of was the lightness on his chest and when he opened his eyes and realized that it was because Derek was no longer laying atop of him. The man wasn’t even in bed and Stiles frowned into the now dark room. He moved to sit up and felt a pleasant ache in his muscles, and he scratched lightly at the dried come on his stomach, listening for his husband around the apartment but hearing nothing.

Before he could get up to investigate though, Derek entered their bedroom, completely naked with a smile visible on his lips even in the darkness, and a coffee cup in either hand. Stiles beamed at him before leaning across to flick on the bedside light and climbing under the covers, leaving them thrown back so Derek could slip into the bed with him. Propped up against the head board, Derek passed Stiles a cup before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and Stiles pressed himself against his husband’s side. 

Stiles took a sip and let out a content sigh. “I’m going to take the day off of work tomorrow,” he said. 

Knowing there was no room for argument, Derek simply replied, “Okay.” 

“What times dinner with your family tomorrow?” Stiles asked, turning his head to look at Derek, knowing that dinner with the Hale’s was a given.

“Six thirty,” he told him, shifting slightly to make it easier to press a kiss to Stiles’ lips. Derek’s mouth tasted like coffee and he smiled into it.

Stiles knew that next week he’d have to take another day off work so he and Derek could attend Boyd’s state funeral and that he’d sit next to Erica and let her cry on his shoulder. That tomorrow he’d visit the Hale house and see Talia weep with joy while Andrew would remain silent but hug Derek bone crushingly tight. That in a few month’s time Derek would be sent back out to Afghanistan and continue putting his life in danger while Stiles remained here to sit and worry. But for now that was okay, for now he could cope, because Derek was home, where he was safe and where Stiles could take care of him.

When Derek pulled back, whispering, “I love you so fucking much,” against Stiles’ mouth, he said it back easily, meaning it right down to depths of him, and as he watched Derek’s lips pull up in a grin, Stiles felt awake and happy and truly _alive_ for the first time in an entire year.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) So if you're here then that means you've read all of it and I love you, basically, and I hope you liked it and that there wasn't any glaring mistakes but if there are could you please let me know. Fingers crossed you liked it because I really enjoyed writing it so yeah, thank you for giving up the time of day and reading this fic, you guys are awesome :D xx
> 
> tumblr: ohbonesmybones.tumblr.com
> 
> p.s. I really hope you didn't cringe at the use of the term 'love-making' because I know I usually cringe at it too but that's what they were doing so I hope it came across in a nice smooth way rather than the usual 'oh my god i want to hit myself head against a wall' kind of way. But if it didn't work then I'm really sorry for putting you through that and I hope you liked it anyway.
> 
> ( **Edit [7/1/2014]** : I'm now writing a prequel to this about how Stiles and Derek met and the start of their relationship so look out for that, fingers crossed it'll be up reasonably soon, and thanks again for reading xx)


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